


Safety in Silence

by musingpredilection



Category: Iron Man (Movies), The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Angst, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Avengers: Endgame (Movie) Spoilers, F/M, Fluff, Panic Attacks, Post-Avengers: Endgame (Movie), Post-Endgame
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-14
Updated: 2019-05-14
Packaged: 2020-03-04 20:59:39
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,494
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18820624
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/musingpredilection/pseuds/musingpredilection
Summary: Reader is the daughter of Tony Stark and struggles with his death while struggling with her own demons that result from her mutant powers.





	Safety in Silence

**Author's Note:**

> The song is Paralyzed by NF. Lyrics used are bolded.

_“Show me a hero, and I’ll write you a tragedy._ ” F. Scott Fitzgerald said this.  I’m starting to be inclined to agree.  Here we are in the end game, yet have we won?  People say we have.  I don’t think so though.  What did we have against a raging psychopath who wields six infinity stones?  Nothing.  ABSOLUTELY Nothing!  We lost.  I lost.  My father.  Doesn’t it enrage you all?  How can you just stand here?  Why don’t we just go back in time and save him?  Isn’t that how we got to this point anyway?  Let’s do it again!  TIME CAN BE REWRITTEN!  God Damn IT!  Let’s rewrite it!  Bring HIM back! **  
**

    At least that’s what you should have said.  You probably said something sappy, cracked a few jokes that fell short [didn’t get that from your dad, you’re sure that his would have made the whole room burst out laughing.]  

   Your eulogy does not do your father justice.  You know it doesn’t.  You knew it never could.  Pepper is crying softly, as you step away from the attention.  As you continue to scan the crowd, you see Happy is patting Rhodey on the back.  Peter refuses to make eye contact as May grieves behind him.  So many people have come to pay their respects.  You proceed to blindly walk towards the back of the crowd.  You pass some of the Avengers. Some solemnly pat you on the back.  Hope reaches out to give you a hug, but you step to the side nearly running into Hank Pym.  The guardians look the most somber you’ve ever seen that goofy mismatched bunch.  Directly behind, T’Challa and the Wakanda gang stand in mourning.  You direct your gaze forward to find Nick Fury.  Your body begins to heat up as you clench your jaw.  If it weren’t for that eyepatched man, your father would still be here. He’s the one who convinced Stark that the Avengers could be a thing.  Rage begins to filter through your body masking the grief.  A hand on the shoulder brings you back to reality, and your body temperature resumed to normal.

   “Come on, not here.” A familiar voice mutters by your side.  You turn towards it.  Hawkeye had stepped away from his family to be with you.  Through unshed tears, you glance to see his wife and children standing with a spot behind his daughter empty from where he just stood a moment before.  “Y/N?”  His voice coaxes.  You can’t chance a glance into the eyes of the other man who had become your father.  You might indeed really cry, then.  Instead, you rip your shoulder from under his hand and stroll towards around the back of the cabin.

   Not too long after you disappear to the woods behind the cabin, you can hear chatter come from the house.  Everyone is inside eating food and congregating.  Laughter.  You hear laughter.   _How could anyone think today was worth being happy?_ You think angrily.  You stealthily return to the side of the house, eavesdropping through a window.  You hear a young man softly discussing a memory with Thor.  He’s telling the Norse God about when Tony was the mechanic who fixed things, how he thought Iron Man was different than Tony.  Thor bellows a laugh at that saying that they are the same man.

    His voice is interrupted by someone calling for you.  Not just any someone, but your mother.  “Y/N…” Pepper’s worried voice calls.  “Y/N, please come in.  People would like to see you.  We are getting ready to listen to what Tony left for us.”

    That… that almost got you to move into view.   _What had he left for you to hear?_ You heard Pepper’s dress rustle and her heels walk around on the deck.  The bush rustles, and she looks over hoping to find you. _Don’t be foolish.  He didn’t leave anything for you.  It’s just some sappy blanket statement.  Just one last chance for him to the center of attention._   You scold yourself as you make your way around the house to the barn, away from Pepper’s view.  

    The broken John Deere tractor mocks you as you hear your father’s quirky voice saying, “Hello Dear!” as if he were talking to a lady.  For having a broken down John Deere, it really doesn’t seem like a very broken down place.  In fact, hidden within here is the hidden switch which opens a secret door, his favorite.  He always used to make a little high pitched “yay”.  Every single time!  The thought makes you smile as you move to activate it.  The immediate silence coming from the cabin though pulls your attention away.

    You make your way out of the barn back to your hiding place by the side wall figuring that you might as well listen if only to hear his voice one more time.  People chuckle as he pokes fun at his own flaws.  You close your eyes sinking down against the stone.  His face is just so clear.  You can see the twitch in his mouth right before he laughs at his own jokes.  His voice.  Oh, his voice hits deep in your heart.  You can hear him from the first time he met you.

_“Listen, Kid.  You don’t know what you are getting yourself into.  You’re in over your head.  The Avengers are coming.  And they will destroy this building.” He said, and then more to himself continued.  “Oh fuck, I’m starting to sound a heck of a lot like Cap.  Gotta change that.”_

_“Go away.  Run far away from here.” You said as flames began to form from your hands.  Tony watched as you are engulfed by flames.  “I’m dangerous!  RUN!” You cried.  Tony saw past your tough exterior and saw fear hiding behind the flames._

_“Kid, calm down….” Tony swaggered, as he did.  Cool as a cucumber.  “Listen I can fix this.”_

_“No, you can’t.  They made me this way!” You shouted._

_“I can.  I can.” He insisted.  “A little boy once reminded me, when I was lost and hurting and confused, that I am a mechanic.  A mechanic first and foremost fixes things.  Let me fix this!”_

   Your memories snap away as you hear Tony say, “I love you 3000.” ending his address to Morgan.  These words pierce your heart, and those tears threaten to fall again.  He continues and personally addresses Pepper.  There’s a pause.   _It’s over._ You think and begin to stand and walk back to the barn.

   “Kid.”  That word.  You stop dead.  There’s a sigh.  “If I had to guess, you’re not actually with everyone else.  Are you?” You peer through the window you’ve been listening through.  Tony’s holograph seems to be scanning the room.  He shakes his head and sighs again.

   “I’m sorry Tony.  You know she would be if she could.” You hear Pepper mutter.

   “It’s ok, Mama,” Morgan says.  

   Your father’s hologram continues, “One day, if you ever come back and listen to this.  I love you Kid.”  There’s silence again.  This time no one speaks.  There’s such comfort in just hearing those words floating in the air.  “Y/N Stark, thank you for letting me fix this.”  With that, the hologram flickers off.

   That was it.  Never again would your father speak to you.  You stood frozen against the side of the cabin.  You audibly swallow and walk over to the lake.  You gaze absentmindedly at the bundle of flowers.  You cross your arms and clench your jaw and stare off across the small ripples that the wind sends through the lake.  

   A few hours later people begin to leave.  Noises of people descending the deck stairs reach your ears.  Murmurs of “I’m sorry for your loss” are uttered.  You can hear people exchanging handshakes and “see you tomorrow”s.  Car tires kick up dust as they drive off the property.   All the while you stand frozen.  

   “I’m worried about her,” Laura says, as Clint comes up behind her.  The dark-haired mother leans against the log pillar.

   “Me too.” He says kissing his wife’s cheek.  “She’s lost so much.”

   “She’s always reminded me so much of Nat.”  Laura muses.  “Her spirit, passion, drive.  Her empathy.  She’s strong.”  Laura nods affirming her own statement.  “She’s strong.”

   “Indeed, our girl is strong,” Clint repeats.  He can’t help but think back to the day you became a Stark.  Tony was beaming!  Inside, Clint couldn’t help but feel a bit jealous.  Both men had served as surrogate fathers.  In different ways of course, but he and Laura were in no place to take an unstable teenage girl.  Being a lethal mutant, you were just not fit for moving into a place with several young children.  Tony and he had many heated debates on where you would eventually wind up.  It only seemed fitting for you to be a Stark; Pepper adored you, always wanting a daughter and Tony… well, Tony could probably love you to death.  “I’m going to go check on her,” Clint says leaving Laura on the deck.  He would resume his role as your other dad.  

   Pepper sighs watching Clint make his way towards you.  You continue to stand like an ice sculpture.  If this were any other day, she would be blown away by your beauty.  A black dress envelops your body.  The slight breeze blows it about around your knees.  She does notice that you have ditched the plain black heels somewhere along the line, as you just stand in your bare feet.  A young man walking up closer to you than Clint catches her eye.  It’s a young man she hadn’t expected to see at Tony’s funeral.

_Tomorrow we go through this same hell all over again.  For Nat.  The funeral, or rather, the ‘Celebration of Life’ as others were calling it.  God, why couldn’t anyone else say something?_ You thought. _Why does it have to be me?  It should be me.  Clint and I are speaking on her behalf._  You rationalize with your selfish side.

   “Miss Stark?” the young man’s voice pulls you out of your head.

   You spin around to see a shaggy-haired man standing before you.  His piercing blue eyes look directly into your [color] eyes.  “Hello, Harley,” you say softly.

   “Y…y…you remember me.  Uhm…” he stutters a bit.  “Y/N, I’m really sorry.  Tony was a great man.” He matches your volume.

   “Thank you.” You bow your head slightly.  “It means a lot.  Dad would have loved to know that you were here.”  You wrap your arms around yourself again as a little gust of wind comes up.  You spot Clint over this young man’s shoulder watching the scene.  “I ought to get going.”  You start moving away.  

   Harley steps out of the way slightly to allow you to pass.  “Uhm…” he grabs your arm lightly.  He holds up a piece of paper, with some scribbles on it.  “My number.  If you ever want to talk.  Sometimes life gets lonely, you know.” he shrugs.

   You smile slightly and take the paper.  “Thanks.”  You proceed up towards Clint.

   The little rocks dig into your feet as you pause beside Clint.  You don’t look up, but just continue to stare ahead.  “See you tomorrow.” you utter.

   He looks at you trying to figure out what’s going on in your head.  When you refuse to make eye contact, he just says, “Yeah.”

   And with that, you continue your trek up to the cabin.  It’s long.  Every step feels heavier and heavier.  When you walk in the house, you don’t stop.  The long journey continues up the stairs.  Pepper rushes from where she was when she hears the front door open and close.  She gets to the entryway of the master bedroom as you stroll past her directly into your own room.  Not a bit of acknowledgment.

   Nothing has changed in your room.  Everything is just as it was before he left.  You make your way past your bed to the desk looking out the window.  You sit down at the desk.  Open a drawer, throw the piece of paper from Harley in there, and pull out your phone.  You turn it on and find a text from Peter Parker.

   “Sorry, Babe.  Couldn’t find you after the funeral.  I’m sorry!  See you tomorrow morning.”

   “K.” you sent in reply.

   A sharp inhale comes before you begin to gasp for breath.  Your hand flies to your throat as your eyes open wide.  Your brain flicks around trying to figure out what’s wrong before it settles on the corporate.  Panic Attack.  You haven’t had one in so long, before… well before you were a Stark.  You take deep breaths trying to calm down.  It only gets worse.  Tears begin to flow freely as you fight through this attack.  You can feel your muscles spasm.  Controlling yourself slightly, you lift your left hand as a small flame emits from it.  You heat the flame up and slam your hand against your right arm.  The flame burns deep into your tricep.  The slam of your hand puts the fire out, but not before it has done the damage.  The searing pain causes you to pass out.

   Your body falls forward against the desk.  Your mind is finally at peace.  This is how you always used to get over panic attacks.  Rather than breathing through them and dealing with the issues that caused them, you would just cause pain strong enough to make the panic attack end.  It had been Clint that taught you how to control your breath and taught you how to recover from panic attacks.  No one ever knew this is how you dealt with them through before.

   “Y/N?  Y/N?” Pepper calls with a few soft knocks.  “It’s dinner, sweetheart.”  When you don’t answer, she finds you slumped over your desk.  The setting sun illuminates your figure making you look ethereal.  Pepper exhales audibly as she got closer.  She sees the burn mark on your arm.  It has nearly healed itself.  She makes a mental note to ask you about it later.  For now, she’d let you sleep.  She carefully slumps you over her shoulder and moves you over the few steps to the bed.  Throwing a blanket over you she peers down in immense thought.  She finds it incredible that she’s still able to ‘tuck you in’ once in a while.  Your face is so calm right now.  So at peace. She wonders when the demons will come tonight… they’ve been paying regular visits since Tony died.  She promised Tony you all would be ok… you’d be ok.

   “Dad?”  You call out in your sleep.  You begin to squirm.  “Dad!” You scream.  Within a second, Pepper is bursting into your room.  “Wait, no!  Dad.”  The scene replays vividly in your head.  Peter is being pulled off your father by Pepper.  

   She leans down and mutters to him, “Tony, look at me.  We’re going to be ok.” Your body can’t move fast enough.   _Oh God, why does he have to be so far away?!_  With her last words, Tony’s arc reactor dims.  

   The dream begins to morph into another nightmare.  One you haven’t seen in a long time, but now it’s a recurring one since Tony passed.  A man steps forward speaking Russian. The electricity flowing through the bars stop.  The cage door opens, and you step out ready to execute whatever horrors he commands of you.  Your consciousness starts to flood in what Pepper’s saying.  You can hear her voice.  You have to get back.  Is she with your father?  

   “Dad! Wait! I’m coming!” you hear your voice say.  “Dad wait!”  Your body begins to heat up.

   “Y/N, sweetheart, you have to wake up!” Pepper shakes your body.

   “Mama, what’s going on?” Morgan appears in the doorway rubbing her eyes.

   “Morgan, go back to bed.” Pepper commands, still trying to wake you up.  

   “Dad!!” You scream both in your dream and out loud.  Your body begins to shake as you try to run.  “Stop, I just need to get to him!” You cry out.  “Let me go!”  

   “Sweetheart wake up.  He’s gone.  He’s gone.” Pepper coaxes you out of the nightmare.

   “Let me go…gone.” Your eyes shoot open at her.  They are red and full of terror.  “Gone.  He’s gone.”

   “I know…. I know…” Pepper prepares to comfort you.  The tears stop flowing that was a result of the dream.  You wipe off your face looking into her eyes again.  Hers floods with grief.  Yours have returned to their normal color and mask everything with blankness.

   You stand and move to leave the room, leaving Pepper dumbfounded sitting off the side of your bed.  Morgan moves to the side as you sulk out of the room.

   “Mama?” Morgan says quietly as you descend the stairs.

   You sit downstairs at the bar sipping tea, as you hear Pepper putting Morgan back to bed.  You stare blankly at the microwave time.  1:22.  The stair creak and you glance over to see Pepper coming down.  She opens the drawer full of tea options, pulls out a bag and tosses it into a cup.  The water slowly drains from the tea kettle into the mug.  

   “Y/N,” she says softly as if talking to a small injured animal.  “What’s on your right arm?”

   You hand flies to the scar.  Your eyes shoot to see what she refers to.  It all comes back.  The panic attack.  The pain.  The darkness.  “Oh, it’s nothing.  I was just messing around a bit and accidentally didn’t shield fast enough.”

   Pepper nods slowly.  “Ok,” she says, but doesn’t fully believe you.  "It’s going to be ok.” She says walking around the bar.  Placing her hand on your shoulder.  “We’re going to be ok.”  She repeats when you don’t reply.  “We’re going to be ok, right?”

   “Yeah,” you say.

   “I’m going back to bed,” she says removing her hand from your shoulder.  “Go back to bed, Sweetheart, ok?”

   You just nod as she strolls over to the stairs and ascends them.  You know that you won’t be able to go back to sleep.  It’s pointless.  Since he’s died, you’ve had nightmares.  Once you awake from them, the day has begun.  You start back upstairs to remove the black dress you’re still in.  You slide on some gym shorts and a shirt.

    Out her window, Pepper watches you practice the fire control out by the lake.  That’s one of the reasons why Tony wanted to settle by the lake.  It was a perfect place for you.  It natural fire extinguisher.  Her breath caught in her lungs as it always did when flames completely engulfed you.  Soon the flames were being redirected into the middle of the lake.  

    “We’re going to be ok, Tony.” She exhales.  “We’re going to be ok.” She repeats, like a mantra.  Maybe if she says it enough, it’ll be true.

    The sunrise over the lake is always a pretty scene.  It’s consistent and calming.  After five hours of practicing to avoid sleep, you sit down by the lake to cool off.  The breeze blows through your hair bringing familiar smells of a fresh new day.  Exhaustion of getting four or so hours of sleep begins to hit as your eyelids become heavy.  Your head bobs a few times and then you fall to the side asleep.

    Pepper holds Morgan back from running down to wake you.  This time has been a bit challenging for Morgan because she really doesn’t understand the grief that has consumed you.  Yes she’s sad that Tony will never return, and perhaps one day it will hit her deeper, but she doesn’t understand that once again you feel alone in the world.  Not that it surprises you, but you had such hope… and now it’s all gone.  It’s once again you versus the world.  And part of your questions whether it’s worth holding the monster back or not.

    “Good morning Happy.” Pepper greets, as the man walks in followed by a young man in a black suit.  “Hey, Peter.”

    “Hi Pepper.” Peter greets sitting down at the bar, as a bowl of cereal is slid over to him.

    “Hello, Pepper.” Happy says kissing her on the cheek in greeting and proceeding to pop in some toast.  

    “Happy!” Morgan calls upon hearing his arrival.  She jumps into his arms for a big hug.

    “Hey, Morgan!”

    “Yo, what’s up?” Peter greets the little girl with a mouth full of cereal.

    When Peter finishes eating, he takes Morgan into the next room to watch some television.  Happy inquires to Pepper, “How are you doing?”

    “Living Happy.  Living.”  Pepper says.  “Honestly, it’s not as bad as I would have thought.  I think ultimately I always knew I’d lose him.  I mean he’s Iron Man.  It’s poetic almost.”

    “Yeah, how’s Morgan?”

    “Surprisingly very good.  She understands that he’s not coming home, but she’s moving on.  But she’s young…. It’s always easier on the young.”

    “That’s good.  She’ll always have her father to be so proud of.  Y/N?”

    “I worry about her.” is all Pepper says.

    “Nightmares again last night?” Pepper nods.  “It’ll pass.  You guys will be ok.” Happy hummed into his coffee.

    “I know.  It’s just going to take time.” Pepper agrees.

    The hours tick by since Happy and Peter arrived.  Peter finally inquires where you are, and Pepper points out to the lake.  Peter walks out onto the deck stopping there when he sees you.  You’re curled up in a fetal position sleeping soundly by the lake.  So at peace.  Eventually, you are woken to change for Natasha’s funeral.  You slip the same black dress over your body and slide on the same black heels.  Last out the door, Happy waits next to the open door for you to get in.

    “Thank you Happy,” you say cordially and slip into the back seat.  Peter sits on the other side of the car seat that contains Morgan.

    Quietly the car starts and drives off the Stark property.  The day cheerful and full of hope contrasts with your heart that aches and closes off to the world.  Next, to you, Peter is solemn.  He didn’t really know Nat that well but is going for you.  His grief isn’t as strong as yesterday when he really mourned Tony’s death.  He reaches over for your hand, and you flinch away.  His eyes come to find yours with hurt and concern.  Internally you reprimand yourself, _He’s only trying to help.  That’s all._

   When the car pulls up, there are already so many people present.  It reminds you of Tony’s yesterday.  Many of the same people are present here.  Happy helps Morgan and Pepper out, while Peter opens the door for you.  The sunlight nearly blinds you from the dark tinted car.  You walk slowly to see white chairs scattered in an orderly fashion around the hole in the ground.  Peter walks up behind you and puts his hand on the small of your back.  You have to tell yourself not to flinch away.   _He’s only trying to help._

   Occupying one of the front row chairs is Clint.  He is much more of a wreck today.  His grief and pain written all over his face.  You wonder if your face says the same… Probably not because it’s just all on the inside.  He stands up and gives you a tight embrace.  The two of you were the closest to the deeply personal spy.  Clint and Nat shared many a mission together, while she and you became fast friends speaking heavily in Russian together.  It gave a purpose, a happy memory to cover all the horrors that revolved around the Russian language for the two of you.

   Nat’s Celebration of Life is beautiful.  An ornate casket is lowered into the ground with the Avengers insignia on it.  Perfectly symbolic of the family which she had.  Following the funeral, everyone begins to congregate chatting.  Clint’s speech is heartfelt with a couple of whips about Budapest.  You chose to speak yours in Russian.  Perhaps because most people didn’t understand it, but also because then it was just a personal conversation between you and her.  Military drums beat as the ceremony concluded.  Dirt was grabbed and thrown into the hole.  

   Pepper and Laura find one another overlooking Clint and you.  The arrow man stands over the stone as you sit Indian style in front of it.  He runs his fingers slowly over the top.

   “The world will miss her.  It will feel the effect of the loss here today.”  Pepper says quietly.

   “Same to him.  The world will miss him and deeply feel that loss.” Laura replies with the same somber tone, as you reach up and trace the Russian that is on the stone.

   “Pepper, I have to ask something.  Please don’t be surprised.” Laura says ominously.  Pepper turns her way and listens.  “Is Y/N having panic attacks again?”

   “No, I don’t think so, why?”

   “Well, I saw a scar on her right arm.  It’s barely there since she can heal fire burns so quickly.  Mutant stuff and all.”  

   Pepper inhales sharply.  “She told me it was just an accident.”

   “Back when she first came to us, before you and Tony adopted her and all, I noticed burn scars frequently on her right arm.  I asked Clint to check it out.  He helped her figure out why she was having panic attacks and how to deal with them.  I don’t know this for sure, but Clint and I kind of piece it together that she shields herself from panic attacks by fainting from pain instead of deal with them.”  Laura explains.  “That’s what this scar looks like.”  Pepper nods in acknowledgment.  Your mental state is much worse than she had suspected.  

   The next week things begin to go back to normal.  They have to.  Morgan returns to school and Pepper begins work with Stark Industries and the Avengers again.  Most of the day you spend alone either working out or practicing control of your fire skills.  The other hours are spent sleeping, trying desperately to make up for the lost winks from when you woke from nightmares.  Between trying to stay alert and keep the nightmares away and not sleeping after waking up from them, you rarely sleep more than a few hours a night.  Dinner are quiet affairs with the exception of occasional cutlery banging and clanging.  In the evenings, you’d hear Pepper talking to Morgan about her day, asking how school was and what fun things had happened.  Sometimes the stories would bring a small smile when Morgan retells of a prank on the playground.

   Peter always stops by after classes.  You two would hang out, or rather work out in the gym.  Sometimes he stays for dinner and you both will go watch some television after, or you watch him tinker with inventions downstairs.  He babbles about his day, what dumb thing some kid did in class or how annoyed he was at the professors.  Sometimes he branches down memory lane to talk about his best memories from “Mr. Stark.”

   One day while lifting, he asks, “What is your favorite memory of Tony?”

   You shrug continuing to lift the barbell over your head.  You glance up at him as he spots you.  It’s not that you don’t have one, actually, how would you even choose?  It’s just that… talking about it won’t bring him back.  When Peter asks another question, he leaves it open-ended for a yes or no response.  You shrug and get up to switch places with him.  There’s nothing to say.  It isn’t that you don’t care.  It’s just that… well, you have nothing to comment on.  

   He begins to fume, “Why don’t you talk anymore?” he says angrily grabbing the bar to pull it to his chest before shoving it back up.  “It doesn’t make any sense.  You have to talk.”  You face says otherwise.  You don’t have to do anything.  

Perhaps it is the monster crawling out again.  Tony had subdued it, but he isn’t here anymore to keep it in, to pull out the humanity.  When you were on missions, the only time you spoke was yes and no.  Small fragments to convey obedience.  There is a sense of security in silence for you.  It’s easy to fall back on since silence reigned the first fifteen years of your life.  If speaking when not spoken to, that would result in punishment.  Even then the utmost caution was needed.  Only when Tony took you in at the Avengers tower were you able to speak freely for the first time.  In fact, since then you took after Tony and began to babble every thought to cross your mind.  It was liberating to speak with a river of words flowing freely.

   Abruptly Peter stands up dropping the barbell down against the holder.  It brings you out of your head.  He speaks venomously, “Just because he died, doesn’t mean you have to as well.  If you’re not going to talk, you might as well be dead.”  And that’s it, he walks out.  You’d be lying to yourself if at some level you were hurt, but ultimately, you felt nothing.  That’s what you were trained to do, to feel nothing, zero emotions.  You mutter something snide in Russian before returning to your workout.  

    The days slip by since Peter stormed off.  One morning as you pour cereal in the darkness, Pepper enters the kitchen turning on the light switch.  You look at her alarmed.  Her face screams business.  “Alright.  Let’s just get it out ok?” Pepper says.  “Whatever it is.  Let’s just get it out.  We can’t just keep going on like this never talking.  You haven’t said a word in over a week.”  You stare back at her.  Her voice softens.  “What’s going on in that beautiful head of yours?  Does it have to do with Pete?  Is that why he hasn’t been over?”

    You just shake your head and pour some milk into the bowl of cereal.

    “What is it then?  Please… Is it your dad?  Tony wouldn’t want you to be this way.  Come on, whatever it is, we can fix it.” Pepper pleads.  “Please, you have to tell me.”

    Something snaps in you at that exact moment.  Fix it.  You have to tell me.  “No, I don’t.” You slam you spoon into your cereal.  “You’re not my mother.  You can’t fix this.”  

    Pepper looks taken back.  “Y/N…”

    “I don’t have anything to say.” You step back from her, eyes wide with realization.  When you snap with your words, consequences come.  “I’m sorry.”  

    Pepper raises her hands in surrender to move closer to you to provide comfort, but you flinch away.  “It’s ok.  You have a home here.  I just need to know how to help you… please…”

“I don’t belong here.” You back up shaking your head.  “You never wanted me.  You’re not my real mother.  Tony had to convince you to take the ‘little walking explosion’.”  You use Pepper’s exact language.  Her eyes widen in acknowledgment confirming that she had called you that at one time.  “Pepper, just go.  Leave me.  GO!” You shout as you begin to breathe heavily.  “Just… Just take Morgan and go.”  You begin to feel your body heat up.  “I can’t control anything anymore.”  The consequences are coming.

    Right at that moment, Morgan comes back down the stairs to see what the commotion and the shouting is from.  She looks at her mother, terrified, as your body begins to glow.

    “Morgan…” Pepper reaches out for her daughter.

    “GO!” You shout as you feel the panic attack overtaking you.  

    In fear and desire to protect Morgan, Pepper picks up her daughter and races from the house.  When you hear the car rev up and drive away, you shoot a flame into your right arm and darkness overtakes you.

    Within an hr, you regain consciousness and rush around grabbing a small bag of clothes, your phone, and some cash.  And with that, you depart.  Pepper returns back as quickly as possible after dropping Morgan off at school early.  A quickly scribbled note is all she finds.  Rushing up to your room, she finds it practically untouched with a few items missing.  

    She realizes that this is it.  You have to go this road alone.  There’s nothing she can do to stop the demons.  They are coming full force at you and there’s nothing she can do.  Slowly she closes the door on your room and sinks down to the floor.

    “Tony, you left too soon.” she sobs quietly.  “She still needs you.  I still need you.”  While she crumbles on the floor she opens the note.

    “Pepper, I’m sorry.  I can’t do this family thing.  Tony was wrong.  I will never be apart of a family.  Take care of Morgan.  Thank you for everything.  I won’t be a bother.  Goodbye.”

    Her heart breaks reading your message.  Tony.  She referred to him as Tony, not Dad.  There’s nothing she can do.  You’re an adult.  She does call Clint though wondering if you went there.  That’s a no.  Then she calls Rhodey to keep an eye out at the Avengers tower for you.

    A few weeks later, Happy emails Pepper a headline.  “Ember turned Vigilante: Mob Killings post-Stark Death.”  Your fate has finally caught up with you.  Homeless and returned to being the monster that you were created to be.  

    Buzz Buzz.  The vibration of a phone wakes you before the nightmare demons can come and bring horrific curls of screams from your throat.  The last word that left your mouth was nearly two years ago.  Go.  You had hurled that word at Pepper.  You wonder if you really told yourself to go.  Someday you can’t recognize yourself when you wash the blood and sweat off in a gas station shower.  But your brain quickly reminds that you are exactly who you were created to be: a mutant of mass destruction.  You flip over the phone and turn off the vibrating.  It surprises you to see a text.  Occasionally you’ll have a message from Pepper or Clint trying to reach out to the old you.  But the old you is dead.  This message from Clint though isn’t the usual trying to get you to meet him for food.  It’s a notice.  

    “Steve passed away last night.  The funeral will be at 1000 E. Willett Dr.  Saturday @ 1pm. Please come.  -C”   You clench your jaw knowing that you should attend that.  

    When Saturday rolls around, it feels eerily familiar.  The smells reaching your nostrils remind you of two years ago at Tony’s.  You slipped on black jeans and a black sweatshirt.  Pulling the hood over your head, you step out of the cab.  You squint as you see a scene very similar to Nat’s.  Chairs surround a hole where a coffin is waiting to be lowered.  At least it’s not an empty box this time.  You think as you slide on sunglasses.  You scan the area, locating a good spot to view the service from a distance.

    “Steve, What do I say?  He’s quite the stubborn bastard…” Bucky begins the tribute.  You notice many familiar faces have come out for this one as well.  Rhodey is pretending to not be crying, while Scott Lang is fully tearing.  Off to one side is your clan.  Pepper, Morgan, Happy, and Peter.  Pepper’s face is littered with so many more lines than you recalled.  Morgan is growing up to be a beautiful young little lady.  When Peter whispers something in her ear, her face lights up just like Tony’s did.  As you continue to scan, you find T’Challa has returned for this as well as Thor.  A few of the soldiers and veterans that Steve worked with are also present.  After Sam speaks ending with: “On your left, man.” People begin to scatter.  Some step up to the coffin and leave flowers.  Others leave a few things at his gravestone.  

    As the crowd separates, you sneak up closer to leave flowers on his coffin.  Your small daisy bundle looks insignificant amongst the multitudes of flowers.  You touch the top softly before turning around to see if you can spot anyone you know in the crowd.  It seems those you know have scattered.  Strolling to the off skirts again, you turn around one last time.  Clint meets your eyes.  His face lights up with recognition.  He does a simple nod of the head in your direction.  You stare back at him blankly.  

    “Clint, what are you staring…” Laura mutters to him, as she spots who he’s looking at.  “Oh…” escapes her lips.  

    Your gaze turns to her, and your expression changes to a pained one.  Laura glances over to Pepper and catches her attention, directing her attention to where you were.

    “Y/N,” Pepper whispers as she looks over to see your back is turned and you are walking away.  She begins to walk in your direction.  She follows at a distance to see where you are going.  She slows when she sees you turn down a certain aisle at the cemetery.

    Dying flowers cover the grave at the end.  The headstone simply has a Tony Stark 1970-2023.  Something so simple for a man who lived so extravagantly.  You lay another small bundle of daisies by the headstone.  Turning around you see Pepper watching in a distance.  Her eyes are so caring.  After so long, she still cares.  You struggle to keep a blank face as you gaze back.  

    With that you silently walk past her, pausing as if to say something, but nothing comes out.  Pepper’s hand lightly rests on your shoulder as she looks you over.  Her heart breaks as you walk off to toward the waiting cab.  She watches you open the door and slide in.  As you peel the sunglasses of your face, it reminds Pepper of Tony.  She gets a glimpse into your eyes which ache with pain.  Your face might be blank, but your eyes held more emotion than any words could express.

    Returning back to the cabin that evening, Pepper feels empty.  Peter had taken Morgan for the night, so the house was totally empty.  Strolling quietly down the upstairs hallway, she stands before your closed bedroom door.  Twisting the handle, she opens the door reveal that nothing had been touched.  Only cleaned once a month to prevent it from becoming too dusty.  The sunset peaks into the room, as if checking it out for the first time in two years.  Her nimble fingers run along with your dresser past photos of the family and you.  You are holding Morgan upside down as the little girl giggles.  There’s one of Tony and Peter holding up a plack, while you photobomb the back putting bunny ears on each man.  She takes a moment to wonder about whatever happened between you and Peter.  It does break her heart a bit that he has been unable to walk through this part of life with you.  But she doesn’t blame him.  Pride swells in her chest when she sees the photo of Tony in the Iron Man suit with the face plate missing staring into the soul of his daughter as you stand in the suit he built for Ember.  The gold and red metal beam off of your black nanometal particle suit with red highlights.  Your face mask is also removed as you stare back into his eyes.  A small smirk present on each of your faces.  

    Her attention is turned to the desk with the top right-hand drawer slightly open still.  Same as you had left it.  She sits down at your desk staring out at the lake.  Recalling the many session of practice you had right there on the sandy side.  Glancing into the draw she sees a small piece of paper left.  On it is a small scribbled “Harley Kenner” followed by a number.  She smiles slightly recalling the events from Tony’s funeral.  The young boy who saved her man had come to pay his respects to the Iron Man’s mechanic.  

    “I’m sorry for your loss, Ms. Potts.” the young man said solemnly.

    “Thank you, Harley.  Thank you for coming.  Tony would have loved to see you here.”  she had replied to him.  

    She had later found him staring into the distance at you.  He looked at you as if he had seen the most beautiful woman, just as Tony had looked at her the night of the dance.  On his way out, he had told her, “If you or Y/N ever need anything, just call.  I’m always available.”

    Pepper picks up the small paper as the memories flit across her brain.  Picking up her own phone, she inputs some numbers and begins typing a message and sending it through the mobile webs.

    Bizz. Buzz. You pick up your phone while chomping into a juicy cheeseburger.  “Love you Y/N.  Forever.  Reach out.” There’s a picture that makes your heart stop a bit.  It’s just a name and number in the picture.  Reach out.  Those words filter through your brain as you chew a fry.  You dial that number and listen as the dial tone begins to play.  Your heart pounds so loud, you suspect that the person on the other end could hear it.  

   “Hello.” a deep voice booms through.  “Hello?”

    Your breathing speeds up as this voice penetrates the walls.  Before the voice can say anything else you hang up, as you hand flies to your chest.  You finish your dinner quickly and run back to the monster’s lair.  

    That night a large trafficking ring went down.  The building and all the top leaders went up in flames while you left the victims at the side of a nearby lake.  It hit the news the next morning.  It seemed like every week a new criminal empire was falling at your hands.

    A few days later, you build the courage up.  The words Reach Out refuse to leave.  They just keep swimming through your head over and over again.  You send a simple text to the number.  “Hello, Harley. -Mechanic’s daughter.”  

   Soon after a text returns, “Hello, Y/N.  Did you call the other night?  Do you need anything?”  

   “No.”

   “Ok, well if you do, just hollar.” came back the reply.

    The door is left open.  Left open for human interaction again.  The next morning you receive another text, “Good morning, Mechanic’s Daughter.” You smile slightly at this and continue with your day searching through your next clues and tips.  That night you shoot a small text.  “Good night -MD”.  The next morning you receive another text.  Same words.  The door stays open.  You grasp onto the small bit of humanity left as the monster claws its way into control.  Weeks of these two small texts turn into months.

    The next hit is a building full of men hauling weapons on the black market from a tip.  You sneak in and take out some of the lower level guys before entering the room.  An older man turns his attention to you.  He appears to be the leader of this operation as others begin to reach for hidden guns.  He puts a hand out to stop them.  

    “We’ve been wondering when you’d stop by…” The man smirks.  “Nothing to say.”

    You reply by shooting a flame at each of the guards.  

    “I see,” he says.  “That’s ok, Little Stark, you don’t need to talk.  We just need you to scream.”  As anger rages through you, your body begins to glow.  Flames emit from your hands.  Before you can shoot flames at anyone else, fireproof chains wrap around your hands and envelope your body.  The more you struggle the more the chains tighten.  You fall unconscious as a needle is stabbed into your neck.

    When you wake, the same man stands over you snarling.  Torture slowly pulls you out of your mind.  “Hello, Ember.  Glad to see you have awoken.”  You stare back at his eyes blazing.  You try to conjure the fire, but whatever they stuck you with has stopped that.  “Thought you could just keep coming and destroy large organizations.  You thought wrong.  Today you fall!  But not before we rip you to shreds.”  As he slowly cut your flesh he continues his monologue, “Tony Stark thought he was the savior of the world, with all of his profound, ‘I am Iron Man’.” The man mocks.  “Here you are trying to be a savior too.  You know what?  Saviors are killed.  They die.”  He spats pointedly as a sharp pain enters your side scraping against two ribs.  

This goes on for hours, days, you’re not really sure.  You blink slowly coming back.  You flinch to move, but the chains dig into your wrists again.  Looking up you expect to see the man hovering over you again, but there’s just blackness.  You must be dreaming.  Your body’s healing properties keep this cycle going.  Your body heals; they torture you again into oblivion.  You drift in and out of consciousness.

    A loud crash jolts you back into reality.  You stare up once again expecting to see your torturer.  But a metal helmeted figure hovers over you.  Your eyes open wide as you try to figure out where you know this from.  It’s so familiar… A metal faceplate with illuminated eyes pierces your soul.  The figure became blurry as you struggle to keep your eyes open.  Your body slumps against the chains as your chin hits your chest.  Your arms bound by the fireproof chains hold your body up against the wall.  

    Cold metal fingers grasp your wrists as the chains loosen.  Your body falls against the figure.  The figure holds you close.  Lifting you carefully into a bridal hold, the figure glances around the room and exits into the open.  You open your eyes slightly and you see the outlines of an Iron Man helmet through the shadows.  The masked figure looks down as your lips try to form, “Dad…”

    “Friday, take us back to where she’s staying,” Pepper says softly.  The boosters in her blue suit shoot her into the air as she cradles you.  She lands down at a shady motel.  Once locating your suit, she lays you gently down on your bed.  Stepping out of Rescue, she cleans your already healing wounds and tends to you as a mother does.

    She runs her hand along your gaunt cheeks.  Your structure is so much more prominent.  She suspects you don’t eat near enough.  Once in a while, you stir, and she makes sure you are comfortable again.  The final time you stir you wake up in terror, she calms you and promises this is a dream.  “Just go back to sleep Sweetheart.”

    That evening, she leaves some food and water on the nightstand and then steps back into the suit and leaves.  You wake and are convinced that you have died.  Your father came to rescue you.  You had to have died.  Everything is so foggy.  

    As proof of this, you reach for your phone and text Harley, “ **I’m paralyzed.  I no longer feel things.  I know I should.** Please call me and just talk to me.”  You expect nothing to come back.  When you’re dead, texts don’t get answered.  Seconds later your phone rings.  You answer, and he begins to speak.  You listen.  You hold onto every word hoping that this really is real.  

    This starts a tradition.  You just call, and he will say, “Hello.” When there’s silence, he begins to speak again.  He’ll talk about how work was.  He will talk about what irritated him that day.  He’ll talk about what excited him that day.  “Have you seen the amazing sunset tonight?”  Every single night.  Without fail.

    The monster is losing control.  Humanity begins to flood back into your soul.  You even begin to meet with Clint once a month for lunch.  You never speak, but he tells you how Nathaniel was growing, how he was terrified for Lila to bring home a boy, and how Cooper was becoming a real player.  He talks about what the Avengers had been up to.  He asks you small questions, and you respond by holding up your left or right hand, which a yes or no was tattooed to the palms.

    Nightmares still haunt you, so the nights continue to be a struggle to get through.  You often sleep in the afternoon.  One evening you sleep later than normal.  It’s around ten at night when you call Harley.  

    “Hello…” his voice has changed.  It’s a question, not a statement or a greeting like normal.  Your mind flicks with worry.  And your worries and fears are confirmed when you hear a girls’ giggle on the other end.  As your heart shatters, you hang up.

    “Shit.” Harley growl as he looks at the caller ID: MD.

    “Pal, who was it?”  his friend asks.  When Harley seems lost in his head, the guy speaks again, “If it’s that girl again… Just give it up.  It’s just weird.”  he rolls his eyes and ogles the sexy blonde in front of him.

    “Shut up.” Harley groans, running his hand through his hair.  He quickly grabs his coat and descends the stairs of the apartment building to call you back.

   **I’m in a box; But I’m the one who locked me in; Suffocating and I’m running out of oxygen.**  You think as you curl up on the motel bed.  You see your phone flash with Harley’s name across the caller ID.   _Who were you kidding?_  It’s felt nice to have someone.   _Who were you though?_  Like Peter said, you can’t be in a relationship with someone who never talks.  You clench your jaw and ignore the call.   _It’s not a relationship… what is it?  Just some messed up dependence on someone who doesn’t care for you.  Dependence.  That’s the problem.  Being dependent on someone to make you whole._ That’s what you had with Tony.  You had depended on him to make you whole.

    “Y/N, please pick up.  I’m sorry.  It’s not what you think.  I’m over at a friend’s apartment.  I can talk.  Please answer.”  Harley pleads over a message.

    The next morning he texts, “GM MD” as he always did.  You didn’t reply as you always did: “GM HK.”  The next night you didn’t call.  He leaves another message, “Y/N…”  there’s just quiet, crickets.  “Please please call.  Please pick up.  I want to talk.  I’m sorry I messed up.”

    Clint could feel something had changed when you had your monthly meeting.  You are retreating again.  That night Harley leaves another message.  Simple.  “I miss you.”

    The final time the young man calls, there’s radio silence after your name.  “Y/N…”

    After a while, there’s a hesitant breath and the voice that can calm your soul begins to speak.  “This week without you has been so lonely.  I miss you.  Honestly, I don’t know what this is, are we friends, are we in a relationship?  I’ve talked to you every day for almost a year.” He rambles.  “Whatever way you want to call it… I don’t want this to end.  I love you.  Don’t cut me out.”  He said the last bit so fast that you think you misheard it as the phone clicked off.  You listen to the recording over and over again.  He _loves_ you.  He _loves you_.  You hadn’t told him anything.  He didn’t even know you, but he loved you.  It reminds you of a lot of your father.  Your father once loved you before he really knew you.  Actually Tony had told you multiple times, he had loved you since the day you met when he carried you onto the quinjet.  You were his daughter that day and since.  That night you struggle to process the emotions that swirl through your mind and into your heart.  No matter what you are thinking, you are at peace.  You sleep through the whole night with no nightmares, no demons, since Tony died.  Nothing came to you.

    “GM MD” lights up your phone screen.

    “GM HK.”

    Little did you know but as those four letters appeared on his screen, he breathed out his first breath of relief.  No phone call occurs for the next few nights.  Harley didn’t want to push you.  The morning began with another text.  You replied.  Rebuilding it is fragile, but once again the monster is losing control.  Your humanity is emerging… and you are scared.  Scared to live.  Because living, like your father, lived… meant dying.  

    Life returns to a seemingly normal rhythm again.  The vigilante would appear and remove evil from the world, and you would claw your way back to being human.  Rather than allowing the monster to bring terror to your world, you’d bring terror to the criminals’ worlds.  You’d become their nightmares.

    Some nights are worse than others.  This one is excruciating as you dream of your torture.  You wake up in a sweat as you try to place that Iron suit.  Is that your father?  You call Harley, as you have in the past when nightmares wake up.  

    A sleepy, “Hello.” comes.  He begins to talk softly to you.  Partly because he has only just woken up, but also to calm you.  He can hear your erratic breathing on the other end.  He walks you through nightmares, through panic attacks; he helps you live.  “How are you Beautiful?  It’s going to be a good day tomorrow I think… or rather this morning, seeing as it’s two.  I’m meeting with Professor Hulk for a potential research project with the Avengers crew.  I’m super excited because it’s working with nanoparticles.  Have you had much experience with nanotech?” He pauses as if you are going to reply.  “You know, often when I have dreams, I find them to be comforting.  I have had this dream for quite a while not that I will one day have a beautiful wife next to me.  My buddies are all getting married or keep sleeping around, but I just have this feeling that I shouldn’t be…” Your breath hitches.  Neither of you has ever even talked about if you are in a relationship.  But to anyone else, you are.  Neither of you is involved with anyone else.  You depend on him as you depend on breathing oxygen.  “When the demons go away will you allow yourself to really dream… what do you dream of?” he asks softly.  “Do you allow yourself to dream, Y/N?”  He pauses to give you time to think.  The only audio is both of your breaths.

    You swallow and whisper, “I love you.” Harley inhales sharply having heard you speak for the first time in five years since he saw you at Tony’s funeral.  He closes his eyes finding immense comfort in the silence.  You don’t say anything else.

    After a few minutes of safe silence, he mutters, “I love you too.”  By the time he speaks again though, you have fallen back asleep.  Once again you sleep nightmare-less.  He wonders how it’s possible to have a relationship built like this one.  He hasn’t seen you in five years.  He merely talks to you.  You spoke for the first time in five years.  He imagines you are just as beautiful as you were when he saw you that day.  How could he love someone with this little of interaction?  Though you never said anything, he could feel you fighting for your humanity.  He rooted for you to fight those demons away.  

    A few days later, he receives a text, “Can I come stay at your place?” He replies with a simple address.  

    His breath is once again taken away when you show up at his doorstep.  Though the street is black and the darkness of night has fallen, you are illuminated on the street.  Physically your clothes hang off your body, your eyes are hollowed, and your whole life fits in a small duffle that hangs from your hand.  But you are just as beautiful in a hoodie and jeans, as the day he saw you in the black dress and heels five years ago.

    “Hello,” he says flawlessly.  This is the voice that is pulling out your humanity and making you whole.

    You are amazed to see Harley.  His brown hair ruffles and falls slightly in his eyes as he gazes at you.   A button-down shirt, slightly open reveals his chest and slacks cling to his taunt figure.  Leaning against the entryway, he smiles at you.  The turn of his lips warms you, and you smile back slightly as you gaze back into his inviting blue eyes.  This is the man you love.

    He directs you to his apartment.  It’s a simple living space.  Papers scattered on the dining table from the projects he’s been working on.  He runs his hand through his hair, showing a bit of nervousness.

    “Can I get you anything to drink?  Food?”  You shake your head.

    “Well, ok,” he says glancing around.  “The bedroom is this way.  Bathroom is on this side.” he points.  He tries but fails to stifle a giant yawn.  “Sorry I normally am already in bed by now.  I have work early tomorrow morning.”  You nod.  You tilt your head towards the couch moving in that direction indicating that you would sleep there.  “Oh, no.  I’ll take the couch.”  

You shake your head and furrow your eyebrows and hold up your palm with “no”.

    “It’s ok,” he reaches out for your hand that’s extended.  You flinch away.  “I’m sorry… I didn’t…” He pulls back.

    That night concludes with him insisting that he sleeps on the couch.  You awkwardly make your way back to the bedroom.  Nightmares never come.  You sleep soundly with his scent surrounding you.  It’s a completely new notion as thus far your relationship has been only auditory.  The next morning you wake to a note with a key.  It is for you.  To his place.  Whenever you need.

    He is surprised that you are still there when he returns from work, certain you’d be gone.  In fact, he is also surprised at the amount of food on his little table.  There was hamburgers, cheeseburgers, fries, pasta, soda, pizza, wraps, salads, really any takeout you could think of was on this table.

    “Hello.” He greets.  “Is all this for us?”  You nod.  “This is a ton of food.”  He chuckles.  The corners of his eyes crinkle.  “You choose.”  You immediately grab for the cheeseburgers.  Before you settle down to eat, the fridge is stuffed with the others.  He tells you about his day and talks just like before over the phone.  Your smiles motivate him to be more animated in his tellings.  Life seemed to return back to normal, except that you lived with him now.  Small touches here and there would send electricity through your body.  When he’d reach for your hand when telling a funny story and just touch the top of it.  You’d snuggle up to him while you’d watch television together.  In the morning, elbows would bump while brushing teeth.

    The routine set in so much that one evening as Harley is settling onto the couch, he says, “Good night, I love you.”  You flip back around to glance his direction.  Your eyes reveal shock as he realizes what he said.  “I mean… I’m…” You step quickly towards him before he can keep blabbering.  You crash your lips into his.  You stop abruptly and step back to gauge his reaction.  “Wow.” is all he says before stepping forward to meet you in a passion.  One of his hands wraps around the back of your neck, while the other holds your hip pulling you closer.  Your hands wrap around his neck and pull at the back of his hair.  You break the kiss and pull him back into the bedroom.

    “Dad…”  your heart begins to race.  “Please…”  Your consciousness can feel you being shaken awake.  “No… stop.  He’s right there.  I need to get to him.” you struggle.  “Please, Dad, come back.”

    “Y/N…” Harley tries to gently wake up.

    “Stop.  Stop!” you demeanor changes.  “AH!” a scream rattles out of your throat.  Your body curls around as phantom pain slices through your side.

    “Y/N…” Harley begins to aggressively shake you desperate to pull you out of the nightmare.

    “No… I’m human!” you scream in Russian.  “No… Stop… stop it hurts!”

    Harley shakes you strong and stronger until you wake and look up at him.  Fear fills your eyes.  “Shhh….ssshhh,” he says softly as the adrenaline leaves way to shaking and tears.

    Some nights wind up like that where he wakes you from your worst memories, while others you sleep peacefully the entire night.  

    The week before the anniversary of Stark’s death, you meet with Clint again.  This time you bring Harley with you.  A small diamond ring sits on a band around your fourth finger on your left hand.  

    “I’m so happy for you,” Clint says in your ear as he kisses your cheek.  Harley is up by the register paying for the meal.  

    “Clint,” you whisper in return.  “I’m scared to live, but I’m scared to die.”

    Clint’s face shines with pure shock as he almost questions whether he’s really heard your voice or not.  “Kid,” he used the name that Tony used.  It felt weird hearing it come from his mouth rather than our father’s.  “Are you happy?”  You nod.  “Do you miss Tony?” You raise your palm that has yes written on it.  “Me too.” He breathes deep.  “Do you love Harley?” Yes.  “Then live.  Y/N, live.  Live a full life.  Live with love.  The hurt will always be there.  But don’t let it stall you.  Don’t let it stop you from living.  Allow it to fix you.  Fix it.”

    “Fix it.” you breathe.  Clint’s brow furrows as you speak again.  You rush out of the restaurant as Harley is coming over.

    “Wait!” Clint shouts after you.  “Fix what?”

    You have returned to not talking again.  You start the car, as Harley barely gets into the passenger seat.  Clint rushes to the car behind yours, starting the engine and zooming after yours.  Soon the two cars are drifting to a stop on Stark property.

    “Friday, what the heck is that?” Pepper says from inside.

    “That is Miss Stark arriving home.”

    “What?  Morgan isn’t due home yet.” Pepper is confused as she stands from her desk where she’s working on paperwork.  “Her bus is an hour from driving around.”

    “No, it’s Y/N Stark.”

    Pepper’s heart stops as she races out to the porch.  She sees 2 cars left running with doors flung open.  Sound is coming from the barn.

    “Y/N, what is it?  Talk to me.” Harley calls after you as you pull large sheets off stuff and push other stuff around in the barn.  You don’t say anything but continue.  Frantic air flutters around you until you locate the switch to the hidden door.  You desperately hit it, revealing the lab.

    You can hear Tony saying, “yay” in your head.  Cautiously, you step in.  Clint is left eyes wide.  He never knew that there was a lab within this building.  Harley also is left in shock.  Pepper comes flying in nearly running into Clint.  Her eyes fill with liquid as she hasn’t seen this room open since Tony left.

    You run your hand slowly over the workbench, as you slowly walk towards the center.

    “Welcome home, Miss Stark,” Friday says.  You clench your jaw.  “Mr. Stark, she’s come home.”  You look around as if expecting your father to walk out of a hidden corner.  Instead, a hologram appears with your father’s figure looking directly at you.

    “Hey Kiddo.  So you figured it out.” Tony’s voice echoes through the lab.  Clint steps back as if he’s afraid to disturb the scene.  Harley watches in amazement as you reach out towards the hologram Tony.  “How long has it been?  How have you been?  I’m scratching my head trying to think about what life is like for you… Are you and Peter together?  Or has another young man swept you off your feet?”  He chuckles.  “Uhg.  Whoever he is, he’d better be glad I’m not there to kick his ass.”  He looks around, and then directly forward again.  “You know I’m proud of you.  I love you.  Those demons that you’ve been battling.  Don’t give into them.  Let them empower you.  Let your pain fuel your fire.” He allows silence to fill the air.

    “Dad…” you speak and reach out with your left hand for him.  “I miss you.”

    Pepper’s breath hitches not only because she hears you speak again, but because she sees a glisten coming from your small fragile hand.

    “Alright, well.  Enough of the emotional hoop-de-la.” The hologram claps. You retract your hand in shock. “Let’s get to business.  This lab is yours.  Keep the suit up and running.  Give them hell for me.”  Tony smirks before his demeanor turns serious again.  “Y/N Stark, I love you.  You are my daughter.  You are my legacy.  Be strong.  You’re going to be ok.” With those last words, his hologram clicks off.  

    “I love you Dad,” you say quietly.

    “Miss Stark, would you like to hear it again?” Friday asks.

    “No.” is all you say.

    You wrap your arms around yourself, as tears fall.  For the first time, you cry over Tony’s death.  As a sob wracks your body, Harley comes up behind you and engulfs you within his grasp.  You sink back into him drawing strength from him.

    Pepper steps forward tears also flowing down her face. “Y/N?” She says cautiously.  You turn to face her and fall into her as she opens her arms to embrace you.  “Oh my god.  You came home.  I love you.  Oh god, I love you!” she cries hugging you.

    She begins to match your sobs as you whisper.  “Mom.  I’m so sorry.”

    That evening, Harley told Pepper about your guys’ story.  How two small texts lead to a life powered by love.  That you rarely speak.  You didn’t speak again that night.  Silence was still a coping mechanism, but you were human again.  Harley grounded you and kept the demons away.  

    Pepper cried overjoyed that you had found happiness, that you have learned to live again.  Morgan couldn’t stop hugging you when she returned from school.  

   “Genius, Billionaire, Philanthropist, Big Man in a suit of armor.  Avenger  Take that off, what was he?”  Pepper speaks at the party thrown in honor of Tony Stark on the fifth year anniversary of his death.  “A loving husband, a caring friend, an industrious mechanic, and a devoted father.” Her face shines as she speaks.  “Thank you for coming tonight to honor him.”

    You stand there beside her.  On her other side, Morgan stands.  As her speech is over, you descend the stairs slowly and gracefully.  The deep blue dress you have on frames your figure while giving you room to breathe.  Harley comes to your side and places his hand on the small of your back leading you through the crowd.  You smile politely at those who have come to pay tribute to your father.  Several Avengers can be found laughing in the corner.  Memories and stories radiate off the walls and filter through the hall.  

    “Y/N?” A familiar voice shines through.  You nod at the Spiderman coming over.  “I’m glad you found happiness,”  Peter says glancing towards Harley.  You step forward and kiss Peter on the cheek as a thanks.

    A familiar song rings through the hall.  Pepper smiles in memory as she remembers the dance that she and Tony shared way back ago.  Harley leads you to the dance floor and pulls you in close.  “I’m so proud of you,” Harley whispers in your ear and then kisses your temple.  “I love you.”  

   You reply with a passionate kiss, and then you speak, “Harley,” you utter quietly in his ear as you dance.  “Do you remember when you asked what I will dream of when the demons go away?”  He nods slightly, giving you the space to speak.  “You.”  His heart pitter patters as he leans in for another passionate connection.

    The next morning, pictures emerge of you and Harley sharing an intimate moment.  The reporters all trying to tell the story first: “Silence is broken:  While people pay tribute to Stark, his daughter, Y/N known as the vigilante Ember, finds peace with Harley Keener.”  “Harley Keener, a young man that Stark tributes to saving his life, saves the life of Stark’s own daughter, Y/N known as Ember.  We heard her speak for the first time in five years.  She said I love you.”  Pepper’s social media accounts told the real story though with a few small words.  “Tony, we’re ok. Love.”

**Author's Note:**

> This has been a cathartic experience writing this. Originally I had planned for this to be a Journal entry that Tony wrote that the reader found for a writing challenge…so look out for that later… But due to circumstances in my life… that changed.
> 
> I’m sorry if this is too sad. I cried the entire time writing this. I’m sorry if it’s not subjective. I suppose it’s because I really am one of the characters in this. I’m not ready to share who, but this is my way of processing. That’s why the reader is the daughter of Tony, and the pairing is kind of messed up…. So sorry if it’s really bad!


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